I’m
not big on conflict. Even when I have the occasional argument around the house
I tend to catch myself and let it go. My wife is usually, (read 99.9% of the
time) right anyway, and my kids are really good kids with good hearts.

Not much
is worth fighting about.

Not
much gets me amped up at all really. Maybe sports, particularly hockey, but
even there I don’t yell and scream at the television like I used to.

When
I need to advocate for my kids though... that’s when it’s on. I am a very
protective Papa Chow, and I will do whatever I need to do to take care of my
kids. All of them.

Which
is where I think this all started. I’m not going to go into all the sordid
details, but it lasted about a week, involved an incredible amount of
discussion and in the end, once I knew things were taken care of, it was over.

I
thought.

I’m
realizing though that it wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

I’m
realizing that being in that defensive mode has carried forward and I’ve been
putting up some walls.

I’m
realizing that for a person who doesn’t usually know how to say: “no” I have
been subconsciously saying: “leave me alone.” Emphatically.

Easy
things have become complicated, even difficult, and that just doesn’t need to
be.

When
I woke up this morning, this all hit me like a ton of bricks. By the time I had
arrived at work, or about 2 hours later I had some clarity. I’m still working
it out because it’s still new, but it’s time to take those walls down.

I
told Netter the other day that I thought “Skinny Jim” seemed like kind of a
jerk, or an ass. Which probably was the beginning of recognizing the walls, now
that I think about it.

She
told me that was not the case, that I just needed to stop over extending myself
and learn to be more patient, particularly with myself, and that the timing,
(with the weight loss) was just coincidence.

What
the heck? I’m not proud. I’m not trying to hide anything. The public
nature of this blog suggests that I’m comfortable sharing the good, and the not so good in my life. So, I’m sharing this one too.

One
of the many side effects of losing weight that I hadn’t anticipated has
been rearing an ugly head in my life. In short, well - I just can’t
drink like I used to.

This
isn’t to suggest that I drink or drank “a lot,” because quite honestly I
think that varies by individual with several factors coming into play.
I’ve seen small guys who could consume cases. I’ve seen large fellas who
couldn’t drink a glass. I’ve known women who, as the saying goes, could
drink anybody under the table. Nobody knows for sure what all of the
variables are and how one might affect another.

But
one variable that I haven’t been considering is my weight, and sadly in
the last few months on more than one occasion I’ve had some
embarrassing moments as I “drank like I did 60 pounds ago,” without
realizing that that was what I was doing.

A friend said that to me on Friday, and honestly I couldn’t be more grateful.

No,
I’m not going to break it down into detailed stories. There haven’t
been any trips to jail, or court, or anything like that. Fortunately, my
wife and a great group of friends have looked out for me, and tolerated
me, (my word, not theirs) listened to me, and given me good advice to
go on.

Still the whole thing is both embarrassing and frightening.

A man has to do a better job of knowing his limitations, and knowing when enough is enough.

In the literal sense the drive from Galloway to Westerville only takes about 40 - 45 minutes.

Figuratively, however it took a bit longer.

Finally though, in early October 2011 my wife and I found ourselves en route carrying an MJB Donation.

A
gift for a boy named Abram who simply needed a way to get out and play
with his sisters, a way for Mom and Dad to get him outside. Abram’s “Get
out and play" deck as we call it now.

We
had heard about Abram a few months before. His family was having a
fundraiser to build the deck, they had a goal number in mind, but came
the query - Could The MJB Foundation help?

Of
course we would - folks who were industrious enough to hold their own
fundraiser? Heck, we were right on board. We would help with the
difference. They would raise what they raised, and The MJB Foundation
would make up the difference.

So we carried that check with us as we traveled to Westerville.

But
here’s the catch - This was the first MJB Gift of Joy we were
delivering personally. No agency involved. No intermediary. Just us...
and honestly - we were a little nervous.

We were greeted at the door by some lovely young ladies and welcomed in to meet Abram and his family

What followed quite frankly was life changing, and as far as that goes - MJB changing too.

When
you lose a child, as we did with Meghan Joy, the feelings, the emotion,
the carousel, the roller coaster are all things you do alone. Oh, you
have your spouse, and you are together. If you’re lucky, like we were,
you have that support, that someone to lean on.

But
nobody can understand what it is truly like. Not your friends, not your
family, nobody who hasn’t gone through that experience themselves can
truly understand what it’s like.

But,
Emma and Andy, Abram’s parents, had done just that. Abram’s twin
brother Heath passed away when he was 3 weeks and two days old.

Emma
and Andy knew exactly who we were, and they made us feel so welcome. We
spent about an hour and a half chatting, sharing stories, talking about
Heath and Abram, and Meghan and Kailey and Delaney and Livvy, Ella,
Mollie and Poppy and on and on, and we gave them the check and went on
our way.

Afterwards, we visited the local mall to run some errands.

As
we shopped we talked about our visit and marveled at the ease with
which Emma carried on a conversation, cared for Abram, and still managed
to keep track of what the girls were all doing.

We could not imagine keeping up with that pace. We could not imagine the energy that must take.

We
discussed the similarities and differences we shared, and we decided
that we were incredibly happy we were able to help, and more importantly
that we had made that donation personally.

We
kept in contact with Emma and Andy and their clan, with the goings on
with Abram and his deck. We invited them to Bowl for Joy and Emma came
with the kids and had a terrific time.

Afterward,
Emma contacted me with some ideas for other ways The MJB Foundation
could help folks, and other ways that she could be involved.

So
would go the conversation every Tuesday as I drove to my hockey game. I
had to call my wife when I was about 10 minutes from the rink...

Because I was afraid I might die on the ice.

I
know that sounds overly dramatic, but in looking back on why I always
called then, but don’t often call now - I’m realizing that’s why I did
it.

I’m 5’7” tall, and I weighed 210 pounds.

I couldn’t give up the game I love, but I also knew I was taking a chance, or at least I felt like it.

I was afraid I might die.

I
tell this story now because I’m about to head into the one year
anniversary of the weekend where I truly made the decision to lose the
weight and make changes to my lifestyle and eating habits.

It’s March Madness Baby!

Every
year for the past 10 years I’ve headed out to meet some
friends at a local bar and grill for the first weekend of the NCAA
College Basketball Tournament. Over the course of the weekend we sample
all and any parts of the menu, we have some beverages, we put the
outside world aside, and we live basketball for pretty much 72 hours.
It’s tradition. I love my friends. I love the camaraderie. I love the
good time. Last year, I learned to love the salad.

This
year, I love March Madness because it marks a significant point in my
life. A point where I had to admit to myself that I felt like crap... a
lot, that it was time to take stock, to turn some things around-

to
live.

I feel like I’m doing things the right way. It’s not some crazy diet. I didn’t change who I am.

Some of you have heard this one, but I need to share it again today.I once took my brother in law for a ride in the only new car I've ever owned. (Long time ago) "What kind of engine does this have in it?" he asked.I quickly replied: "A black one." "Really," he said "How do you know?" "Well because I opened the hood and looked and it's black." "Oh wait," I stopped myself. "It's a V6." Laughing he replied: "How do you know that?" "Because there's a sticker on the side that says V6, and I know that has something to do with engines." I
often tell this story at the end of the basic computing classics I
teach when my students are telling me they still don’t think they can do
it, or they feel inadequate, or they’re still clearly afraid, for lack
of a better word. I
stop them and I ask them if they have something that they are good at.
Of course, they always reply yes, and I tell them that everybody has
something they are good at, something they can do better than other
folks, and the reason is because they need to / want to do that, and in
this day and age, they will probably need to or want to do something,
eventually, that will require a computer and then they will have buy in.
I
then tell the story above finishing by sharing with them then that once I started
paying for auto repair I had a reason to know more about engines. Save
for replacing a battery and basic things like wiper blades and tail
lights I never did learn to repair cars, but I can tell the difference
between when my alternator is going bad, and when my thermostat is
stuck, and I know there’s no such thing as a “wobble shaft.” At least I
think there’s no such thing as a wobble shaft. ;-)In
general, they get it, and they walk away smiling, feeling good about
being good at something which hopefully will give them confidence to go
on and learn new things, and improve themselves.We all are good at something. Say it with me. Say it out loud.I
think, and I’m seeing a lot lately everybody spending so much time
focusing on what they need to do, and what they can’t do, or don’t think
they are capable of doing... and I wonder why instead of focusing on
the can’t, they don’t focus on the “how can I learn?” or “Who do I know
that can teach me / help me?” We were all put here together for a reason.You know, it’s just a thought.Have a good weekend!

Meet Jimmer

Daddy, Honey, Coach, Captain. I have an awesome wife and three wonderful daughters. Hockey player and golfer, Public Speaker, Customer Services and End-User training specialist.
My springer spaniel is Daddy's Boy (just ask him). I work for the library (Yep - really I still do - 26 years). I am the Captain of Brian's Bail Bonds Hockey - a position I feel privileged to hold even if it does only mean I make the lines 12 seconds before each game - That's not 15 mind you, but 12 exactly. I enjoy a good conversation with family and friends, beverage in hand of course. I'd like to think I'm "Fiercely" (thanks Christian) loyal. I give when I have and I hold on when I don't. My family is everything to me.